Let It Be Me
by brittpinkie
Summary: Sam and Tara's lives are too complicated for each other. But maybe a little complication is just what they need.
1. Chapter 1

This is the Sam and Tara plot line we all wanted in Season One. Takes place a few weeks after they've started things. I'll likely not follow the plot of the rest of the season, at least, not in regards to Sam and Tara's lives, in order to properly tell my story. Enjoy :)

Chapter One

I want to tell Sam to stay, but I know I can't. We've fallen into this comfortable sort of- well, fuck- it wasn't comfortable at _all_ really. But anyway, we'd fallen into an _agreement_ of sorts. Fuck and then leave. That's how it had been for the past two weeks, that's the way it'd always be.

He pushed inside me once more, grabbing my hips tightly and pulling me flush against him. His head bowed into the nook of my neck and I let out a content sigh as he came. I felt my own muscles tightening as he moved his face and kissed my jaw line; his scratchy stubble felt familiar against my skin- I loved the feeling.

"_Sam_," I whispered into the night, just as I felt my own resolve melting. My body tensed for a few blissful moments, and then I came too; my legs thrashed violently around him before I collapsed back into the bed.

Sam slid out of me, but stayed on top of me- his firm, sturdy body pressed against mine, and I welcomed the feeling. It made me feel…safe.

This was different than we usually did things, though. Usually, Sam would slide out, roll over, get dressed, get out. Not that I was any different. When we fucked at his place, I was the same. My panties would still be damp as I skirted out of the Merlotte's parking lot. As I figured, as we both figured, or at least I assumed- the less emotion involved, the better it would be to keep this light and easy. No mess, no complications. Neither of us needed any more mess or complications in our already fucked up lives.

But tonight, tonight something was different. Sam was still on top of me, though he shifted his weight slightly so I could breath easily. His hands were at the sides of my face, and he was kissing my clavicle, licking along the thin skin there in a slow, sensual way. We never did slow or sensual. It was always fast, and rough. What was he doing?

He felt me tense beneath him and he looked at me with an earnest expression, all puppy dog eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly, his voice still ragged and husky from just having sex.

"I- yeah, it's okay I guess," I said slowly. My guard was slipping, because what I really wanted to say was, "Don't stop," and then pull him inside me again. But I couldn't do that. We didn't do that.

Sam sighed softly, and it was apparent that the moment had passed. He removed his hands from my face and rolled off of me, promptly sitting on the side of the bed and running his hands through his sandy hair in frustration.

I let out a shaky laugh. "Why'd you do that, Sam?"

"Why'd I do what?" he snapped, and turned to look at me. The expression on his face was one I definitely did not expect- angry, eyes piercing and grey. "Why'd I try to make things romantic for once? Fuck, Tara, I don't know. You tell me. It's obviously a waste of my time." He turned back around and stared at my nightstand.

I pulled the sheets around my naked body, suddenly self conscious. Scooted over to where he was sitting and touched his shoulder lightly. He didn't look back up at me, but I spoke anyway. "Sam," I said hesitantly. "Don't be that way."

"Be what way, Tara?" he said, and he yanked out of my grasp. He stood up and stared at me on the bed, and he looked completely revolted. "I don't know what the hell you want."

My guard _had_ been down, but it was firmly back in place now. "Well, fuck you too, Sam. I don't know what the fuck you want either. I thought this _was_ what you wanted. We're fuck buddies, aren't we?"

Sam was pulling on his jeans with almost vampire-speed. He was pissed. So was I. I let the sheet fall around my waist and crossed my arms, staring at him sullenly from the middle of my hotel bed.

"Is that all this is to you, Tara? Fuck buddies?" He roughly pulled his shirt over his head, leaving his hair ruffled.

I glared at him. "Yup. That's all it is to me."

"Fine," he said, and grabbed his car keys, which had been thrown to the ground in our haste to get to the bed. "See you at work tomorrow."

"See you at work tomorrow, _Sam_," I spit out his name so he'd know I was just as pissed, and he gave me one more fleeting glance before yanking open the door and stalking out into the night. The door slammed shut behind him and I jumped in spite of myself.

I wrapped the sheet around myself quickly and rushed over to the window. I pulled the curtain back slightly and watched as Sam kicked his car door with an angry expression and then got in and pulled away.

We had an agreement. It would never be more. Even if I wanted it to be more, it couldn't. Fuck, I didn't have anything to offer him. I couldn't take him down with me. Didn't he see that? I could see it clear as day. Why was Sam so naïve? There could never be more between us.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the reviews last time! You asked for more, and here it is :) I'm working on the next chapter now, so stay tuned and keep letting me know if you're enjoying it :)

Chapter Two

I bent over the table and let out a long sigh as I began to wipe up the spilt ketchup that some customer had left behind. I could hear Sookie and Arlene chatting away behind me; Sookie was in a good mood because she'd spent the night at Bill's the evening before. Fuck, she didn't even know about me and Sam. What could I tell her anyway?

"Oh, me and the boss have been fucking for three weeks. Oh no, we're not _together_ 'cause I've got some commitment issues, and he's still in love with you like the love sick puppy dog that he is, but we're definitely screwing each other five nights out of seven. We fuck and fight. That's the extent of things."

Nah, I'd pass on that conversation. Sookie had enough going on anyway, what with her gran dying and everything. I didn't want to bother her with my problems.

I gathered the plates and entered the kitchen. Now Lafayette, I had no problem burdening with my issues. He was my blood- he _had _to deal with my bullshit.

"Why yo' face so long, heifer?" Lafayette asked, waving a spatula in my direction as he turned around and spotted me sulking near the sink. "Aww, shit- you and Sam again, ain't it?"

"Fuck, Lafayette, I don't know what I want," I cried, throwing down the stack of plates into the sink and flinching as they clattered against each other.

"You know what you want," Lafayette said, and turned back towards the grill. "You know what you, but you afraid to admit it."

"Oh really?" I asked, feeling my temper rising. "What the fuck do I want, Lafayette? Since you seem to know more about than I know about myself."

"Damn right I know more about you," Lafayette said, turning back towards me with a raised eyebrow. "I've known your ass my whole life. I know you, Tara Thornton. And I know you want to have something serious with Sam Merlotte. But you. is. afraid. of. admitting. it." He said the last part slowly, dragging out each word and chopping his spatula through the air to emphasize.

I crossed my arms over my chest again, a nervous, defensive habit of mine. "Why should I be afraid of admitting something to _Sam_?" I said and chuckled at how ridiculous it sounded, even to me. Sam was the most harmless man in the world. I wasn't afraid of him.

Lafayette put a plate of food up at the counter and rang the service bell. He looked back at me with that same cocked eyebrow and put a hand on his hip. "Oh, I know you ain't afraid of Sam. But you sho' is afraid of admitting that you can be weak and that you could need someone other than yourself."

I narrowed my eyes, but the conversation came to a halt as Sookie came to the window to pick up the food. "Oh, hey, Tara," she said, completely oblivious to what she'd just interrupted. "Hey, Sam is looking for you. He's in his office." She bounced away then, her ponytail bobbing behind her, and I sighed, slamming down my hand on the counter.

"Fuck!" I yelled, and Terry Bellefleur passed through the doors, looking at me curiously. "What the fuck you looking at?" I snapped and brushed past him, trying to ignore Lafayette's loud, mocking laughter behind me.

I knocked loudly on Sam's office door, already pissed as fuck, though I had no idea what Sam wanted. "Come in Tara!" he yelled over my knocking, and I threw open the door and stormed into the room, not afraid to let him know that I was _not_ in the mood for any bullshit today.

"Tara, close the door behind you," he sounded annoyed, and tired. Sam was rarely short with me the day after; this was unusual. I did as he asked and took a deep breath, deciding maybe I could stand to calm down a bit.

"What do you want, Sam?"

"Well, first," he said, slowly, and I could tell he was getting angry, "I'd like it if you could drop the fucking attitude, Tara."

I blinked and stared at Sam. He rarely spoke to me like this. Last night was a rare exception- then again, he was mad. What was his fucking problem today?

I decided to ask him. "What's your fucking problem today?"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think we need to stop seeing each other."

That was a surprise. I opened my mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what I'd say. "Why?" the word finally came out, and my voice sounded weaker than I wanted it to. Sam noticed too, and opened his eyes to look up at me.

"Well, I thought you'd be happy. You didn't want me around last night."

I sighed. "It's complicated, Sam," I said quickly, and Lafayette's words suddenly floated back into my head. I sighed again, and it was my turn to shut my eyes. "I've just got a lot of shit to sort through. You don't want to get involved with it, Sam."

The room grew quiet, and I didn't bother opening my eyes. This was the end, and even though I liked to pretend that I didn't need Sam, that it was just sex, I really _did_ care deep down. I didn't want things to stop- no matter how fucked up it all was. Everything in my life was fucked up, anyway. At least this bit of fucked up had a little pleasure attached to it too.

I didn't hear Sam get out his seat, didn't hear him move across the room, didn't hear him breath in front of me, didn't know he was there, until I felt his hands on the side of my face, cupping my chin as he had done the night before. I opened my eyes quickly, and cursed myself in my head as I felt my deep brown eyes begin to water.

"What if I _do_ want to get involved with it, Tara?"

"Sam," I whispered, and he shushed me by pressing his mouth against mine. His lips were hot and his breath came out in warm, ragged spurts.

His hands stayed on my face, and I felt my arms go around his chest, hugging him against me. A tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheeks, falling onto Sam's face, and he looked at me with the most tender look I'd ever seen.

"I want to get involved with your shit, Tara. Let me."


End file.
